On this steamy autumn day, the quad is like paradise with a crunch. I start to wake up, enough that I remove myself once again. I suppose that's where it all begins. It always starts and ends in the same place, with the same person. Me. That's what it's about, right? Meeee. I am all I know, and much has been pointed out to me today. I can tell
I've been running late to everything. Sometimes I find it too hard to leave. Sometimes I find it too hard to go to, as if some maniacal force is keeping me away. Usually, I find I'm fighting with myself over my identity. So sue me. I'm twenty. And fuck you too. So like I was saying, I can't seem to get to where I'm going. Hah, (says you), isn't
I was allotted 4 minutes to float towards work alone before I encountered a mental roadblocker of a historical dilemma. But we'll ignore the past for now. Dwelling on this afternoon, rather. I just saw teeshirts. Really, in that 4 minutes - teeshirt after teeshirt after teeshirt. Mighty Mouse - Hot Topic. Abercrombie. Theta. Underoath - War
Question One: When one keeps a planner for some extended period of time and the pages become filled, scribbled on, scratched out, reused, and completed in all aspects, it becomes time to buy new pages for the little leather-bound friend... Can those old pages be thrown away? Or, despite their uselessness, should they be saved? This was your life. Question
One must take a moment to address why it has come to pass that monogamous relationships are a staple of society. I must disclaim my babble here, for I can only truly examine the age group with which I am most familiar: Americans age 16-24. Truthfully, this acknowledgement is proof enough that anything I say hereafter can be deemed false by wiser and more diversely
I used to believe that I couldn't be happy anywhere. But the places weren't the problem. Indeed, I couldn't be happy. But entering now... What should I do if I could be happy anywhere? I have my preferences. Still, I could blindly point to a map and find myself pleased with my location. I can't be deterred from the travel... or can I? In the
Outside and alone at night, Camel Turkish Royal, and it was fall again. Cold, just like the words I heard, lost in the currents, fountains forever dormant, stars so far away. These things, they make it fall again. Oh it was fall again. With every step, the air would pause, in broken memory. Blackest stars, the blackest stars, losing to eternity. It's how it feel
No no no no, this isn't about the right or left cheek. This is about approaching life in terms of a funny little thing called achievement. Instinctively, I am a slacker. I never like to put any more effort into something than it requires. But is this because I can actually get away with it? It's true, some people overachieve because they fear UNDE
Well, this is my welcome article evidently. I never kept a blog before. Diaries, Journals, all web-based... yes. But a "blog" specifically? Not so much. I mean, there's no difference AT ALL, but now I can feel cool. Now I can be in with the in-crowd and say "yeah, guys! I have a blog TOO!" and then promptly buy a Prada bag. Anyway, I'm not sure if I'll keep
JoeUser Forums